


Maybe Send Me An Angel?

by redhoodiehearts (Heroichemmo)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Timeline, Character Death, Gen, Guardian Angel AU, Panic Attacks, Suicide mention, connor needs closure, evan needs a friend, everything goes to shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 20:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heroichemmo/pseuds/redhoodiehearts
Summary: Evan Hansen was always alone -- and he was used to it for the most part. But that didn't stop him from wanting a friend.Connor Murphy was tired of everything and one in this damn world and just wanted to escape.They both get what they didn't think they wanted, but definitely what they needed.((Guardian Angel!Connor AU))





	Maybe Send Me An Angel?

_Dear Evan Hansen,  
Today is going to be an amazing day, and here’s why: |_

Evan stared at the blinking cursor on his computer screen, wondering how he should follow the practiced intro. Why would it be a good day? It was the first day of his senior year, so there’s something. But how would it go? Would he end up making a fool of himself just like every other year? He started typing again, non-stop for a few moments before reading it back to himself.

_Because today, all you have to do is just be yourself. But also confident, that’s important. And interesting, or approachable. Mostly yourself though, that’s the big one. Be true to yourself. And don’t worry about whether your hands are going to get sweaty for no reason; you can’t make it stop no matter what you do because they’re not going to get sweaty so don’t even think about it because all you have to do is be yourself. There’s no way it’s going to be like that time you had the perfect chance to introduce yourself to Zoe Murphy after the jazz band concert last year, when you waited to talk to her and tell her how good she was and pretend to be super casual but then you didn’t even end up saying anything because you thought your hands were sweaty (they weren’t, until you started thinking about it) so you put them under the hand dryer in the bathroom and they were still sweaty, just very warm now too._

He read back the words in his mind, lip captured between his teeth while he changed things, tried to make it sound better. He had to read this to his therapist later, and there was no way he could tell her about his weirdly sweaty hands!

Just as he was getting ready to start typing again, his mother walked into his room with a twenty in her hand. He instantly shut his laptop – a force of habit – and turned to his mother.

“So you just decided not to eat last night.”

“…I wasn’t hungry.”

“You’re a senior in high school, Evan, you need to be able to order dinner when I’m not here. It’s even all online now, you don’t have to talk to anyone.”

“See, that’s not true because you have to talk to the delivery guy and stand there silently while he counts out the change and it’s—“

“This is what you’re supposed to be working on, honey! With Dr. Sherman, talking to other people.” Heidi gave him a half smile as she laid his jacket on the bed next to him.

“I’m trying.”

“No, I know! I know! And that’s why I made you an appointment with her for this afternoon.”

“I already have an appointment for next week.”

“Well, I thought you could benefit from seeing her sooner. I’ll pick you up after school.” She moved around the room, idly tidying as she went. After a beat of silence from her son, she spoke again. “Hey, have you been writing those letters? ‘Dear Evan Hansen, today’s going to be a great day and here’s why,’ you been doing those?”

“Yeah, I started writing one.” He hesitated. “I’ll finish writing it at school.”

“Those letters are gonna help you build your confidence, you know, seize the day!”

Evan made an uncommitted sound of agreement in response.

Heidi moved back towards the door, pausing in the frame. “I don’t want another year of you sitting at your computer on a Friday night telling me you have no friends.”

“Neither do I.” Evan responded, watching her retreating form.

“Oh!” She popped her head back in, grin forming. “Hurry up and come down for breakfast, I made pancakes!”  
He looked at her with an exasperated look. “I’ll be there in a minute.” His words sounded tired, like he hadn’t slept much the night before (a true statement, but not one he wanted his mother to fuss over) and eventually pulled open his computer again. He highlighted all the words on the screen and replaced them with a single thought.

_Dear whoever might care,_

_It’s me again. I’d really like a friend. One who doesn’t just use me for car insurance. Maybe… Maybe an angel? But only a nice one, one that’ll help me through this… mess that I’ve become._

_Or, you know, a friend works just as well? We don’t even have to be close, just someone that can talk to me like I’m human instead of a loser._

_Either way, thanks._

And with that, he shoved his laptop into his bag and bound down the stairs, backpack strap hanging on his arm just before the end of his cast.

* * *

Across town, in the higher end neighborhood (or as Connor Murphy liked to call it, the rich white asshole part of town), the Murphys were having another heated debate on Connor’s attendance.

Or well, it would be, if Larry gave a fuck about Connor and Zoe didn’t sabotage everything in his life. It was more his mother talking to a brick wall and getting grunts in response.

“It’s the first day of senior year, Connor, you’re not missing school.”

He looked over his shoulder at her from his bowl of cereal, a smirk on his face. “No one’s saying I won’t go tomorrow – I’m trying to find a compromise here!”

With a sigh, Cynthia looked to her husband. “Are you going to say anything or are you too wrapped up in your emails?”

“You’re not missing school, Connor.” Larry replied, eyes still glued to his phone.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“What do you _want_ me to say, he doesn’t listen to me. Besides, look at him, he’s probably high.”

“He’s definitely high.” Zoe quipped, glaring across at the table to the one in question.

Connor rolled his eyes, letting out a loud ‘Fuck you!’ before laying his head on the table, to which Zoe repeated right back.

“Enough! I do not need you picking at your brother right now. Besides, he’s not high.”

With raised eyebrows, Connor slowly looked up, his eyes meeting Zoe’s as a grin split across his face. After another moment, his mother spoke again.

“Are you high?!”

He turned to her to explain, but was shut down before he could. “I do not want you going to school high, Connor! We have talked about this.”

“Perfect!” He responded, hand wrapping around his bag and making for the stairs. “Then I won’t go; thanks, Mom!”

She let him go without a fight, simply turning to her oblivious husband and daughter. After a few moments of silence, Zoe stood, stating: “If Connor’s not ready in five I’m leaving without him.”

Connor was currently laid across his bed, one hand scrolling through his phone while the other rubbed at the wrist holding it. He knew he had to go to school – not all day, but enough to please his mother at the very least. And if he hurried he could ride with Zoe and skip the whole ‘it’s gonna be a great year, Connor, you’ll be in college before you know it!’ lecture that wasn’t really a lecture but might as well have been with how it made him feel. There was no way he was going to college; he was lucky to have made it to senior year – both physically and mentally.

Hell, he’d be lucky to make it to the _end_ of senior year at this point.

With a heavy sigh, he forced himself up and out his doorless frame, bag slung over his shoulder as he bound down the stairs. He quickly swiped an apple from the table before pressing a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek and running out the door to catch Zoe before she left.

“Have a good day!” She shouted; not that either of her heard. She could see Connor with his headphones on and head against the window with Zoe in full driving mode. Another heavy breath escaped as she shut the door, ready for another long day alone.

* * *

“How’s it feel to be the first person in history to break his arm jerking off?” Evan heard from behind him, turning to see one of the only people he considered as a friend. Jared Kleinman, whose mother worked with Evan’s at the hospital and he’d known pretty much since diapers, and in general was just a huge dick.

“I-I wasn’t doing that— “

“Paint me the picture: you’re in your room, you’ve got Zoe Murphy’s Instagram pulled up on your weird, off-brand cell phone…”

“No, shh, that’s not what happened! Obviously. I was… Well, I was just climbing a tree and… and I fell.”

“You fell? Out of a tree? What are you, an acorn?”

“I was, well I don’t know if you know this but I worked this summer as an apprentice park ranger, um, at Ellis State Park? I’m sort of a tree… Expert now, I mean, not to brag…Anyway, I tried to climb this forty foot tall oak tree and-- “

“Then you fell.”

“Well it’s ac- it’s a funny story because there was a solid ten minutes where I just lay there on the ground and any minute now, I was saying to myself, y’know, any minute now someone’s gonna come and help.”

“And did they?”

“No, no body came and that, um… that’s the funny part.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jared was laughing again, and Evan felt himself flare up.

“What did – How was – “ In an attempt to steer the conversation away from himself, Evan stumbled over his words and took a breath to calm down as his fiddled with the hem of his shirt. He ended up mumbling, “You have a good summer?”

While Jared went on about his amazing summer camp, Evan kept his eyes down almost afraid to look up and see the other students streaming in around them; what did they see when they saw him? Could they tell that he was, in his mind, curled into a ball screaming for help and a quiet room but physically just a wound-up toy held in place? He felt like he could explode at any moment, break down into the mess he knew he was, but at school where they’d rip him to shreds for even shedding one tear, it was impossible to have that break. When Jared turned to walk away, the pen in his pocket grew heavy. ‘Have the other kids at school sign your cast’ Mom had said in the car, but would Jared even want to?

“D-Do you, maybe want to sign my cast?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Well I just thought, because we’re friends— “

“We’re _family_ friends. That’s like a whole different thing and you know it.” Evan had kind of been expecting – well, more than kind of, he’d completely expected nothing less than what he got. “Hey, tell your mom to tell my mom that I was nice to you, or else my parents won’t pay for my car insurance.” He pat Evans shoulder as he moved past the taller boy, halting as he saw Connor Murphy enter the school. Jared, who, very much unlike Evan, wasn’t afraid to say what was on his mind, spoke up enough for Evan to turn around again and watch what was about to happen as the halls cleared for first class.

“Hey Connor! Loving the new hair length, very… school shooter chic.” He said with a shit-eating grin, and Evan felt his pulse shoot through the roof for Jared and the look he was receiving from Connor. If looks could kill, Jared would be more than six feet under, and Connor had a bit of a reputation for being hot-headed; Evan wasn’t really feeling having to figure out how to calm Connor and protect Jared while also not getting involved because why should he, this had nothing to do with him!

“Jeez, it’s just a joke.”

“Yeah, no, I’m laughing, can’t you tell?” Connor’s voice was steady and calm (a bad sign, if you asked Evan, but then again if you asked him _everything_ could be a bad sign) as he eyed Kleinman. After a split second, he took a step forward and raised his tone. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?”  
Jared rolled his eyes, gesturing to the black clad boy. “You’re such a freak.” He commented before turning and walking around the corner, leaving just Connor and Evan standing there. While he didn’t even think about the fact Connor was still standing there, Evan let out a slight, under-his-breath laugh at Jared’s ridiculousness – you don’t make a comment like that and then not expect the person on the receiving end to be mad. Unfortunately for him, Connor took it the wrong way.

“What the _fuck_ are you laughing at?

“What-- “

“Stop _fucking laughing_ at me!”

“I was – I didn’t – “

“You think I’m a freak?”

“No, no I wasn’t— “

“I’m not the freak!”

“I wasn’t laughing a— “

“You’re the fucking _freak_!”

And with that, Connor Murphy pushed past Evan Hansen and shoved him to the ground. And Evan Hansen sat there, on the floor, for the better part of first hour, waiting for someone to notice he wasn’t in class.

No one noticed.

* * *

“Yes, Mom. I get it you have to work.” Evan sighed as he walked into the computer lab. “Maybe… Yes, I finished it, I’m printing it right now… I was… Yeah, it was a good day. Bye.”

He hardly noticed the other people in the room, pulling out his laptop to finish the letter – as much as he didn’t want to, if he showed up to his appointment without it his therapist would get mad and then he wouldn’t be allowed back and he really, _really_ wanted to get better so he had to get this done. Even if it was the most bullshit thing he ever wrote. His fingers hesitated over the keys before he started typing; maybe if he focused on the sound he wouldn’t end up crying.

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all, um… This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year because… why would it be? I know, I know, because there’s Zoe, and all my hope is pinned on Zoe who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me. But maybe, maybe, I could just talk to her then maybe… maybe nothing would be different at all._

_I wish everything was different. I wish I was a part of… something? I wish that anything I said… **mattered**. To anyone. I mean, face it, would anyone even notice if I just… disappeared tomorrow? _

_Sincerely,_  
Your best and most dearest friend,  
Me.

Instead of reading it back, Evan just hit the print button. It wasn’t like what he wrote would matter anyways, Dr. Sherman would see it a ‘progress’ either way right? His words didn’t mean anything, the action is what counts. Really, he should have been by the printer already (who prints something and then leaves it sitting instead of picking it up they’ll think maybe I’m an idiot which isn’t too far off but _still_ ) but unfortunately, he found himself lost in thought only to be interrupted by Connor Murphy.

Oblivious as Evan was, you would think he’d notice the only other person in the lab was the same person who pushed him in the hall earlier in the day, but when you’re on the phone and on a mission, it was hard to take in surroundings. To Connor, though, it was just another moment in life; he was always unseen, and if seen just referred to as ‘the freak’ or ‘crazy’ or ‘hothead’. And honestly, being unseen was better than the other options. He was only there to kill time anyways. (Or at least, that’s what he told himself; really, he was looking for statistic rates of successful suicides with different methods.) He’d only picked up Evan’s letter because he was printing a page of his own. So when he looked at the paper and saw ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ at the top, he had no choice but to talk to the kid.

And honestly, he should have probably at least heard Evan out. He did try to explain before Connor blew up and shoved him, but Connor’s temper was always as short of a fuse as any with a lit flame just millimeters away from the end. It wasn’t his fault Hansen laughed at him but he wasn’t going to take it. He’d heard the kid was nice enough so… Maybe Connor could make an effort to become friends with someone. Maybe someone would miss him after he was gone.

A hopeless and useless thought, honestly, but worth a shot in his eyes.

He turned and walked over to Evan with a slight hesitation, trying not to scare the kid. “So,” He started, and of course he still managed to spook him. “what happened… to your arm?” This was foreign for Connor, trying to be nice, so his words were unsure and slow-paced, as if considering each one carefully.

“O-oh, um… I, uh, fell out of a tree actually?” It wasn’t a question, but Evan phrased it like one – it was hard to think right when the guy who caused your latest panic attack was trying to play nice.

“You fell out of a tree.”

“…Yeah.”

“Well that is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” _Liar. Your life is the saddest thing._

Evan tried to laugh with Connor, but it ended up coming out scared and half-hearted. “I-I know.”

Okay, this was going somewhat well right? He couldn’t let it die out so fast. “Uh… Nobody’s, um… signed your cast.” And he was back to the calculated words.

“Oh. No, I know.”

“Well, I’ll sign it.” Connor had no hesitation. This was how you made friends, right? Being nice? Signing a cast?

“Oh, y-you don’t have to.” _There’s no way Connor Murphy wants to sign my cast._

“Do you, ah… have a sharpie?” Connor took another hesitant step forward; if Evan didn’t want him to sign it, he’d have to say it. He wasn’t backing down now, he was at least going to make an _acquaintance_.

Evan started digging in his pocket, walking forward. Okay, so maybe Connor Murphy wasn’t the most ideal, but at least his mom would be happy with one small signature, right? He handed the marker to Connor, who in turn grabbed Evan’s wrist just a little too roughly. “Ow.”

“Oh.” He checked Evan’s face for any sign of major discomfort, blinking once before turning back to the cast, writing his name out in large letters.

“Oh. Great. Thanks.” Evan stated, eyes glued to the much larger than anticipated writing.

“Yeah, well… Now we can both pretend we have friends.” Connor stated, handing his marker back. His eyes wandered off, away from the situation and how he hadn’t completely fucked it up yet.

“Yeah, good point…” He vaguely registered Evan’s voice as he started to walk towards the printer, and his real reason for coming over came back to focus.

“Oh, hey is… Is this yours? Um, I found it on the printer it’s, uh…” He glanced at the paper even though he knew what was written there. “’Dear Evan Hansen’, that’s your name, right?”

“Oh, no no no no no, that’s, um…” Evan watched as Connor tried to hand it back, his eyes still on the paper, probably reading it. “That’s just, um, just a paper I have to write, it’s for an assignment— “

Evan had reached for the paper, but suddenly the arm holding the paper recoiled to Connor as he started reading aloud. “’Because there’s Zoe’?” He hesitated, not wanting to meet Evan’s eyes. “Uh, is… this about my sister?”

“No, no, not at all.” Evan reached out again to try and take the paper back because _no no no this wasn’t happening his words didn’t matter Connor Murphy was not supposed to read this and now he’s going to kill me for having a crush on his sister_ but Connor moved it out of reach as he took a step back with his eyes glued to the floor. When he spoke again, it seemed as if he was trying to work the whole situation out loud.

“You wrote this… Because you knew that I would find it.”

“…What?”

“Yeah, uh… yeah, you saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab so you wrote this and you printed this out so that I would find it.” He’d started walking forward again, the lit match landing on the thread to the dynamite.

“Um, wh-why would I— “

“So I could read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right?! And then you could tell _everybody_ that _I’m_ crazy. Right?”

“No, I-- “

“Fuck you!”

Instead of giving Evan the slightest chance to explain, Connor stormed off and out of the computer room, slamming the door in his face.

“No, no, no, no, no come back I really need that back please give it back I need that back so can you please, can you please just give it back!”  
He’d tried to follow, but in his state with shaking hands and tear-filled eyes, it was useless. He stood silently looking through the window in the doorway, attempting to calm himself and work up the courage to follow. It wasn’t until an hour later, though, that he actually did move, and it was only to head home.

Maybe he could explain to Connor tomorrow and he could give it back?  
And maybe hell would freeze over in the next twenty-four hours.

* * *

“A letter to yourself? What the fuck does that even mean? Is it some kind of sex thing…?”

“No! No, it’s not a sex thing, it’s an assignment.”

“Why are you talking to me about this?”

“I didn’t know who else to talk to!” Evan looked away from the computer screen, where he could see half of Jared’s face – he didn’t _want_ to tell Jared but who else could he go to about Connor Murphy, the scariest guy in school, stealing his letter? “You’re my only f-f—family friend.”

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t know what to do, he stole the letter from me three days ago and then he just, he hasn’t been at school since.”

“That does not bode well for you.” Jared stated, leaning back in his chair as he finally looked at Evan for the first time in the twenty-minute skype conversation.  
He was quiet, face flushed again. “What’s he gonna do with it?”

“Who knows? Connor Murphy is batshit out of his mind.” Jared rolled his eyes again, turning away long enough to grab his phone. “Remember he through a printer at Mrs. G in second grade because he didn’t get to be the line leader that day?”

“Do you think he’s gonna show the letter to— ”  _Zoe?_ “ –other people?”

A snort of laughter came from the other. “He’s gonna ruin your life with it, for sure. I mean, I would.”

Yet another example of Jared being an asshole, as if Evan didn’t see that every time they spoke. Unfortunately, he didn’t exactly have any other friends, family related or not, so there wasn’t much he could do about it other than sigh. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know! Figure out a way to make Connor not be a freak and give you your weird sex letter back?” He continued scrolling through his phone, and distantly Evan could hear Mrs. Kleinman calling for him. “I gotta go. Listen, if you think of a way to not make Murphy a freak, let me know.”

And just like that, he was alone again. Might as well get started on another letter.

* * *

The next day was nothing like Evan thought it would be. One would say it was the day his life drastically changed.

It started with being called into the principal’s office – something that was unheard of for him – and was greeted with two people he’d never seen in his life. “Oh, hello, good morning. Is, uh, is Mr. Howard… Sorry.” He was barging in on something obviously. “I’m sorry, just, um, they said on the loudspeaker for me to go to the principal’s office?”  
The male, who looked like a business man, stood up and approached him. “Mr. Howard stepped out.”

“Oh…” Evan took a step back, preparing to go back outside and wait to meet with him.

“We wanted to speak with you privately.” He motioned to the empty chair in front of them. “If you’d like to take a seat?”

Hesitantly, Evan slid into the seat while avoiding the other’s gaze. The air made him worry something was wrong – he’d never seen these people before, had no idea who they were, but they wanted to talk to him in the principal’s office without the principal?

“We’re, uh… We’re Connor’s parents.”

 _Shit_. He started to panic mentally. He showed them the letter and now he’s being kicked out of school because he had a creepy fascination with their daughter and they were filing for a restraining order and—

“Oh.”

\--they were going to take him to court over this stupid, stupid letter and he’d never get into college because his record will show he has a restraining order against him. Not like he was getting into any big colleges anyways, but even the smallest bit of hope shriveled up and died sitting in that chair.

The silence was eating away at him as his focus was on a single book spine on the shelf as his mind raced.

“Who don’t you go ahead and…”

The woman—Connor’s mom – spoke for the first time, and Evan slowly turned his head. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

“That’s not what I said, is it?”

The silence filled the room again as she unfolded a paper.

“This is, uh… Connor… wanted you to have this?”

Looking at the first line, Evan knew it was his letter. The text was like reading an embarrassing story online, and he wanted to melt right out of his chair. He tried to speak, but no words came.

“We never heard your name before.” The father spoke instead, sitting next to his wife. He finally took a moment to take in both of their faces – weary and tired, the mom with tear tracks on her face and the dad with a stern look. “Connor never mentioned you. And then we saw… _Dear Evan Hansen_ \--”

“He, uh.” Evan cleared his throat. “He gave this to you?”

“We didn’t know you two were friends.”

Wait. Friends?

“F-friends?”

“We didn’t think Connor had any friends. And then we see this… This letter. And it seems to suggest pretty clearly that you and Connor were, or at least for Connor, that he thought of you as…”

They thought Connor wrote this? To him? And that they were friends? Why would Connor Murphy want to be friends with him? And what was with all the past tense words and _where the hell was Connor in all of this?_

“I mean, it’s right there, _Dear Evan Hansen_ , it’s addressed to you, he wrote it to you.” His voice was harsher and angrier the longer Evan sat there with nothing to say.

“You think this, um, you think that Connor… wrote this to me.”

“These were the words he wanted to share with you.” Mrs. Murphy spoke again, quiet and almost as if she would cry again any second.

“His last words.”

“This is what he wanted you to have.”

“I-I… I’m sorry,” Evan’s mind was reeling at a rate no less than ninety miles an hour. “What do you mean, ‘last words’?”

The pair shared a pained look before Mr. Murphy turned back to Evan while Mrs. Murphy tried to not cry.

“Connor, uh…” There was no easy way to say it apparently, as he took a moment to find his words. “Connor took his own life.”

“He what?!”

“And this was all he had with him, it was folded up in his pocket. And you could see that he was… He was trying to explain it, why he was…”  
Evan started shaking, trying to figure out why, how, what, why, when, how, why, why, why? Connor didn’t write this so that means he didn’t write a suicide note and maybe his isn’t actually gone, maybe he just ran off or something. Yeah, they didn’t know if he was actually gone… Except they found his letter in his pocket meaning they had his body…

“’I wish everything was different, I wish… I were a part of something, I wish what I said mattered--’ ”

“Larry, _please_.” Mrs. Murphy let out a sob, turning to her husband. “ _Stop it_.”

“Okay.” Was the simple response she received, and Evan couldn’t bring himself to look at them both.

“But, this is, this is not, I’m, I’m sorry, I’m sorry but Connor, uh, no, Connor didn’t write this.”

“What does that mean?”

“Uh, Connor didn’t – he didn’t – write this.”

“Larry, what does he _mean_?”

“He’s obviously in shock.”

Evan’s hands were still shaking, his entire body feeling like it was shutting down.  “No, no, no, I mean, he -- he didn’t, he didn— “  
Mrs. Murphy stood up, looking at him desperately. “It’s right here!”

“-- I’m sorry I should, I should just, I need to go can I please go now?”

He was trying hard to not have a panic attack right there in the room with them, standing and throwing his bag over his shoulder as he and Mrs. Murphy both tried to talk over the other. The letter was gripped tightly in his casted hand as he tried to make his way to the door with unsteady legs, and luckily Mr. Murphy interviened.

“Honey, this is _not the time_.”

“This is all we have!” She sobbed, her words continuing as she tried to push him away.

“Listen to me! Please, Cynthia!”

“Here, you should uh,” Evan leaned forward, past Larry, to hand the paper back to Mrs. Murphy. “you should take this, please, just take it, please.”

It was quiet again, save for her sniffling and crying, until she froze with eyes glued on Evan’s cast.

“Larry… Look, his cast…”

Mr. Murphy turned and looked at his cast at the same time Evan looked down at it and the big signature Connor had written there just days before.

“His ‘best and most dearest friend.’”

After that fiasco and locking himself in a stall in the bathroom for two hours texting with Jared (which resulted in, surprise, no help what so ever) and scrolling through Facebook to try and calm down only to be met with memorial posts in Connor’s honor, he finally said screw it and sent a text to his mom telling him he couldn’t do school today and made his way home. That’s where things got even crazier.

Because sitting on his couch, was Connor Murphy.


End file.
